


Final Nights: Sanguis Sancti

by lia_bezdomny



Category: Vampire: The Masquerade, X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood, Charles Xavier has a Ph.D in Adorable, Cherik - Freeform, Erik is Crushing Harder than a 12-year Old Girl, M/M, Protective Erik, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-09-02
Packaged: 2018-12-22 23:21:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11977233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lia_bezdomny/pseuds/lia_bezdomny
Summary: “Are you insinuating, that I made a mistake?”  Charles grins and shakes his head.“I would never suggest anything like that. I'm keen on keeping my eyes.”“Don't be absurd, dear. Taking those beautiful organs would be a crime against nature. I would simply remove your mouth.”“You old sap.”---Erik and Charles have been together for two centuries. After leaving Transylvania a few decades ago, they have found a new home in England. Their quiet unlife however, is threatened by an old enemy and a promise, made years ago.





	Final Nights: Sanguis Sancti

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on the RPG Vampire: The Masquerade. I tried to be as faithful to the source material as possible. The standard clan curses are included, but no additional weaknesses. This will be a long one, if I make it through.

“Well, what do you think?”

Charles looks up from his book and walks over to Erik. His newest piece of artwork is displayed on a pedestal. A six feet tall pillar, made out of watery, green jade, covered in carved cranes. At least, that was what the buyer ordered. The real material was less precious and more nauseating. That is, if one knew what a Tzimisce could do with pounds and pounds of flesh and a vivid imagination. But Charles had been with Erik long enough to appreciate the artistry of his beloved.

 

“Brilliant, Erik. Does it still live?” “No. Nothing that goes to the Yanks is connected to me.” Fleshcrafters, as his clan was sometimes called, could keep their victims alive for years and use them, to spy on unsuspecting kin and kindred alike. The leather jacket he made for Azazel, fifty years ago, was still their best way to keep in contact with their friends in Transylvania.

 

“One day, you have to tell me, why you hate Northern America.” “I don't hate all of it. I'm fine with Canada.”

“What did you use?” The elder Cainite picks up his journal and flips through the pages.

“Three stock brokers, a reject from the X-Factor and ten rats for texture.” While inspecting the sculpture, Charles catches a whiff of something rotten.

“I think, there is something wrong with it. It smells foul.” The look, Erik gives his partner is nothing short of insulted.

 

“Are you insinuating, that I made a mistake?” Charles grins and shakes his head. “I would never suggest anything like that. I'm keen on keeping my eyes.”

“Don't be absurd, dear. Taking those beautiful organs would be a crime against nature. I would simply remove your mouth.” “You old sap.”

Erik still sniffs at his creation and now he realises it too. The odour is familiar to him, and he turns around.

 

“It's not from the sculpture.” “Do I need to be worried?” The older nods and beckons Charles to come closer.

 

“Nosferatu.” “No, dear. It is Charles.”

The younger man retorts, simply because he can't help himself. Erik rolls his eyes at him and brushes his hand over Charles' forehead. The third eye vanishes and he sways a little. When he can focus again, Erik's face has changed. Instead of greyish, his skin is now pale and the row of sharp teeth are now human like.

“I will never get used to this...” He mutters. “I wish this would not be necessary...” They had this discussion before.

“I get it. Safety first, the world is out to kill my kind, yada-yada-yada. Where did you put it this time?” Erik smirks and looks very proud of himself.

“You did not... Oh, you deviant creature!” Then they hear a knock on the door.

“Good evening, I am Terence,” the Nosferatu says in a high but soft voice. “Secretary of Thomas Habsburg. May I come in?” “Habsburg?” Charles feels like fainting again but this time it is solely out of fear for his unlife. The last time he heard that name, he was asking Erik to kill him.

***

The smallish creature sits in a chair opposed to them, with a tablet on his lap. He was exceptionally hideous and Erik was intrigued by all the deformities. _Nothing I could dream up can ever compare with the beauty of a Nosferatu,_ as he told him, when Charles saw his first one. And since Terence didn't seem to pose any immediate danger to them, they agreed silently to hear him out.

 

“So,” Charles says, while placing a glass of blood in front of him.

“You want us to come to London because my sire demands me to be at his ceremony...” “To be the new prince, exactly. He called upon you.” Erik trained him for these kind of situations, so he just shrugs and replies:

“I felt it, but I broke the bond years ago. He has no thrall over me.” Terence nods and swipes his fingers over the screen.

“May that as it be, you and your brother in darkness are his last childer and the Habsburg's have ruled the city for centuries. It is expected, that you attend and act as the new primogen.”

“So, why can't my brother rule?” Charles knew perfectly well why. Ehrenfeld was currently in Mureș County, tended to by Raven and she really hated to give up her toys. Especially, if she liked their screams.

 

“His priorities lie within Eastern Europe.” “I see.” There was no reason to discuss this further. All three of them knew what would happen, if Charles refused. Besides, they could finally tighten up some loose ends.

 

“When is it?” “On the 22nd. I assume, you will bring your pet along?”

Terence eyes Erik, who stares right through him. Charles feels his mates anger and briefly gets a vivid picture of the Nosferatu's body flayed open and his head on a pike.

 _We can play later_ , he sends back and winks at him. _And play, they would_.

“Yes.” “Will he need special accommodations?”

“Like a straight jacket, you mean?” “Your sire will not be held responsible for the indiscretions of your plaything.” Charles gives in for a couple of moments and let's Terence feel a tiny bit of his power. The Nosferatu shakes his head and puts a bony hand to his mouth.

“Is something wrong?” He asks innocently and amps it up, just a little more before releasing him quickly. “Just, just a little uneasy. The travel. You were saying?”

“He can take care of himself.” “Then our business is finished. I see you at the ceremony.” The creature leaves without another word although the foul odour lingers.

 

“It will take me weeks to air this place out.” Charles sighs and looks at Erik.

“You knew this day would come.” “I thought we had a few centuries more, that's all.” The Tzimisce drags one fingernail over Charles' cheek and draws blood.

“You could just ask me to know what I'm planning. I don't keep secrets from you.” He tries to be annoyed but fails, when Erik just gives him an adoring smile. Well, as adoring as his returned sharp teeth could be.

“But this is much more fun. And given, what I just saw... You are way more devious than I could ever be, darling.”

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
